Of Time Gone By
by Beagairbheag
Summary: Forced out once, she is duty bound to return under a different guise. How long will it be before everyone realises who she is, and the events of the last ten years come to light?
1. Chapter 1

_You guys have no idea how long this story has been floating around my head, waiting for its turn. I've finally got round to planning it all and typing it out. Woohoo!_

_I've kept the summery brief, because if I say too much then I'll give part of the story away, and I'd rather that you read it and try to work it out on your own. I'm sure you'll guess right._

_Different from my other Tortal stories as Kel and Dom are not the main characters. This story takes place in the HE 469, give or take a year depending on whether you include the "missing year" or not. Its about five years after Tricksters Queen and eight/nine years after Lady Knight, making it about 17 years after Realm of the Gods._

_Edited - Timeline Fusspot, I so wish you had left an email. I'm reposting this chapter because your review sorted things out for me. I'm going to have to do some tweeking over the next couple of chapters, but its great to have finally sorted things out. Thanks :)_

_And now, without further ado…on with the story._

* * *

A fierce storm blew up suddenly as the small ship crossed the Emerald sea from Tyra in the east, to Tortallian shores in the west.

The wind was blowing a gale against the sails, whipping them this way and that as men tried tied them off. The rain battered down on the deck and those upon it, while salty waves crashed against the hull and spilled on to the deck, drenching the sailors who where already soaked to the skin with the rain.

Sailors ran this way and that, fastening mooring lines and tying off the canons, to save them from either falling overboard due to the violent tipping of the small vessel as she pitched and rolled in the waves or slamming into the side of the ship causing even more damage. Or worse, slamming into a person, and killing them.

Standing as though oblivious to the adverse weather conditions, at the bow of the ship, was a lone figure, well wrapped up to resist anything that the elements could throw at them.

Clothed in a thick, fur lined jacket made of seals skin, buttoned to the neck which fell way below the knees under which a sturdy pair of knee high leather boots could be seen, the figure rolled with the waves that rocked the boat.

Not sliding or slipping about as many of the sailors where, but holding their place. Eyes cast outwards over the stormy sea as though they where seeing something no one else could see.

As a flash if lightening lit up the sky, a coastline could be seen in the distance and the petite ship veered towards it suddenly, dislodging many sailors from their positions leaving them sprawled out on the deck while many would have gone overboard had it not been for their lifelines.

During the next swell, the helmsman was knocked from his place at the wheel and the ship turned wildly in the dark, tempest waters.

Moving from the bow to the helm, on legs that seemed to have been born for the sea, the lone figure picked their way across the deck. Treading lightly and as surefooted as a pony walks across rocky hillsides, they stepped over sailor and seaweed, never once being deterred from their final destination by the wild and often erratic movements of the ship.

Upon reaching the helm the figure grabbed a hold of the wildly spinning wheel and wrestle with it for control. Finally managed to gain control, they steered the ship back on its original course.

The figure at the helm began to shout out then in a hoarse voice, instructions in Tyranian that even after ten years, still held onto a bit of a foreign accent.

Men scrambled on the deck to carry out orders. Removing debris from the deck, untangling in the lines and using the pumps to pump water out of the hold.

Once more they where heading on their correct course.

Towards the piece of land they sailed, as if to smash themselves to pieces upon the rocks that littered the coastline. Waiting for the signal that would guide them in the right direction and into port.

As they neared the coast a faint light could be seen high upon a distant cliff, its light flashing at intervals both long and short. The vessel veered in that direction. Taking care to maintain the light directly in its path.

Nearing the shore, the light became even brighter, shining through the storm clouds. The said storm clouds, and the storm itself, seemed to fade as the ship got closer to the land.

Then, as if they had passed through an invisible barrier, the storm that had started up so suddenly and violently, died. Leaving in its place a calm placid sea while overhead, gulls cried in the bright blue sky, the sun was warm against the skin.

Sailors stood and looked around them, many falling back down to their knees, making a sign against their chests to ward of evil and to protect them from demons that must haunt these waters.

"Twas a might fine storm, was it not?" said the Captain of the ship, appearing suddenly behind the helm with its temporary driver, who nodded. Their attention still on the steering the ship safely into harbour, avoiding all the sharp, jagged rocks that where dotted about the harbour entrance.

"You fink there was some magical intent behind it?" he asked, as he too kept watch for the under water death traps. Men stationed themselves at the bow of the boat at his instruction, shouting back directions.

"Perhaps," came a light voice, so different from the one which had shouted orders not ten minutes earlier "I am no expert on magic though."

"Aye, that's true. But you know the sea, anyone can see that. Did that feel like a real storm to you?"

The person holding the helm sighed

"No" they said, clutching the wheel tightly "That was no natural storm."

"Then it had to be an enchanted one."

"Perhaps. Who would benefit from us not turning up?" the Captain threw a glance in the temporary helmsman's direction.

"The Tortallians," they continued, turning the wheel to the left slightly after a shout cam from the front of the ship "invited us here. They want this succeed."

"Someone closer to home mayhap?" the old captain said lightly, looking over his shoulder at the eerily blue sky and sunshine lit bay behind. With no hint that even the smallest breeze had been present. When he turned back around, he was met with an icy stare.

"That type of talk could be classed as treason" came the reply, before both sets of eyes where cast forward again as the ship continued on its way. Weaving in and out of rock formations hidden beneath the waves, ready to strike down any unsuspecting, or clumsy traveller, the ship travelled on. The dock coming into sight.

"You know I mean no disrespect, but you can not be blind to trouble that has been going on? The trouble that this trip has caused from the moment it was put into motion?"

"I prefer to think that no one would stoop to this level, that they would be loyal to the cause and understand why this has to happen."

"Then you are living in an ideal world my friend"

"If it where ideal, then I wouldn't be on this trip," the figure said from under their hood, returning the wheel to the crews original helmsman as he returned to his post, sporting a freshly healed scar to the top of his head.

"Aye, I heard you kicked up a fuss about coming. Is my company really that bad?" he said grinning.

"Your company I can just about handle. This place," the Captains companion gestured towards the land with a hand "I don't know if I can handle. There where others that could have come" the latter being said quietly.

"True, but you are the best. Plus they trust you and your judgement. They respect you and they have your loyalty."

"My loyal is with my charges, not with the country."

"Your charges are the country and its future."

There was a sigh and the figure in the rain gear, bowed their head and brought their left hand to their face as if you wipe away something unseen.

"We need to be extra vigilant. Watching our own people as well as all the others."

"Agreed."

"I can trust you?"

In any other situation and being asked by any other person, the aging Captain might have blown up at them for asking the question, but as he gazed down into the eyes of the person standing next to him, he knew that the question being asked was necessary. It wasn't that he wasn't trusted, it was that the person needed to know that he was there for them if, and more likely when, the situation called for it.

"Aye," he said finally, "You can trust me" and a smile broke out on his companions face, something he hadn't seen much of since the trip had been organised and put into motion.

"I can not for the life of me, make you out." The captain said as the boat pulled into harbour and the two made their way along the deck, avoiding the sailors running about, on their way to the galley and below deck. His companion gave him a look and raised their eyebrows.

"One moment I think I have you sussed, then the next moment you go and do, or say, something that completely changes my view of you," he said, stepping over a stay fish that had landed on deck and not been tossed back overboard.

"When we met, I had you pegged as a warrior. Standing in the courtyard, bow cocked and ready to fire, those men egging you on, betting against you and you showed them didn't you. Wiped those smiles off their faces and cleared out their pockets. Won me a fair amount too," he said with a wink.

"Now I see you on the sea and I can tell that you are a sailor, and born to it, if I didn't know any better." He tried to get a look into the other persons eyes but they kept them focused on the wooden deck. "Which leads me on to all these wild stories I've been hearing about you," he said.

"I wouldn't hold too much weight to them."

"I didn't," he said as they reached the doorway to the quarters below deck "but seeing you today has made me rethink what I originally thought."

"Are you sure you didn't hit your head earlier?" the Captain was asked as he dodged out of the way of hands that came up in a mock attempt to check his head for bruises.

"You cut that out youngster. I'll tell you if I ever hit my head on something and no," he began when his friend opened their mouth "I'm not going senile either. I still have a good few years left in me"

"Then you must have been drinking, to believe the stories that the court gossips and minstrels have made up."

"If they've made them all up, then you are nothing but a simple country girl," he said as he opened the door for her.

"Simple? Yes," she said, pulling back the hood covering her head to revel the face of a relatively young woman, her skin brown with the sun. Long brown hair was tied in a messy bun at the back of her head and a scar ran from her nose to under her right eye, "Country girl? Definitely not" she said as she smiled and headed down the stairs, leaving behind the Captain, whose chuckle could be heard as she descended deep into the ships hold.


	2. Chapter 2

_Short chapter. Longer one, with more…action, coming soon. I am hoping to update each Sunday, but we'll see how that goes. I'm also not too happy with the summery so that might change. As might the title, but I'll let you know if anything drastic like that is going to happen._

_In best Aussie imitation accent she can manage (and it aint a very good one at that)._

_…can you tell what it is yet?…_

* * *

After entering the galley, the young woman walked down a small set of stairs. Upon reaching the bottom she began to undress, freeing herself from the water sodden clothes. Pieces of seaweed clung to the material and in the close confined space, where beginning to small quite ripe.

She hung up her big thick coat on one of the hooks and bent to remove her boots, swapping them for a pair cloth shoes that muffled the tread of her feet on the cool wooden boards. Pulling the stray hair from her eyes she undid her bun and retied it, where it hung at the base of her neck.

She walked down a short corridor and knocked on a door at the end, entering when she was bid.

The room was a fairly large one for one on a ship. Housing four people for the long trip, it needed to be. The other three occupants of the room sat within, huddled together on one of the beds. Curled together under several covers stripped from the other beds.

"Is it over?" one of the them asked, sticking her head out from beneath the covers.

"For now," the young woman replied, sitting herself down on the bed opposite. "We'll be docking shortly. The Tortallian's will have an envoy on the shore, probably none of the Royal family though, but someone important nonetheless. You'll have to greet them formally."

"We know," said another girl, slightly older than the last, emerging from the covers. A pale green shade still visible on her face.

"I suppose I'll have to lead the way." Pulling the covers completely of her, the eldest girl frowned at the young woman who had now taken a necklace from beneath her clothes, and was worrying it between her fingers.

"Master Tora will be there," she said, taking a glance out the small round window, "And I will be there as well. You'll do fine."

"But what if I make a mistake?"

"Then you make a mistake. They will not kick you out of the country just because you didn't greet the Prime Minister right, or because you eat the food on your plate in the wrong order. I will stay as close as I can, and will help out in any way I can." She lent across the small space, grasped the woman's shoulder and gave her a smile, "You'll do fine though. There is nothing to worry about."

"Tell that to the fireflies in my stomach," the girl replied.

The young woman laughed. "Up," she commanded joyfully. Standing, she pulled the covers from the three girls. They moaned and groaned at her, before slowly getting up and dressing themselves appropriately. The travelling clothes they had worn for most of the trip went into one of the trunks in the corner of the room whilst ceremonial gowns and wraps came out from another.

Gowns of red infringed with gold stitching where to be the colour in which they met their Tortallian neighbours for the first time. Soft leather patent shoes of the same colour where worn on their feet. Though she wasn't much good at fancy hair arrangements, nor ceremonious dressing, the young woman who was their companion, tried to help out as much as possible.

Her clothing was a simple white cotton shirt and a pair of loose hose under which she wore a light pair of cotton leggings. Over the top of her shirt she had a red tunic jacket in the same colour of the girls dresses. Over her head she wore a head scarf. The brightly coloured cloth was wrapped round her head and covered the lower part of her face, hiding it completely and leaving only her eyes showing.

The garment was essential in the hot dessert winds of Tyra where she often travelled but here it was merely used as a prop, and an aid to help hide her identity.

There was a slight jarring as the ship docked in port, and was tied off. Below deck they heard none of the shouts and orders being given above, but focused on preparing themselves for their task ahead.

"Why cant we go as you are?" the youngest asked as they waited for the signal that all above was ready for them. The young woman, her colouring and accent so different from theirs, moved about the small cramped area fixing hemlines and straightening stray pieces of hair.

"Because," she said, coming to stand in front of the youngest girl, "They want to see your pretty faces," and with that she lightly tapped the young girl on the cheeks. The girl glared but didn't get a chance to reply as there was a knock at the door, and Master Tora appeared.

As a young man he had been friends with the present Kings father, and had featured in the government of Tyra ever since. These days, Eloy Tora spent much of his days entertaining passing dignitaries and ambassadors while teaching youngsters the history of Tyra. His ability to listen, speak well and come to amicable decisions where some of the many reasons why he was sent on this trip.

"Are you ready?" he asked, pausing by the open door and looking at the girls. They had grown up with him around and he had treated them though they where his own grandchildren. It was a delight to see them today, so grown up and beautiful.

The eldest took a deep breath and looked sideways at her sisters, each looking back at her with determined, if not a little worried expressions. She turned back to Eloy and nodded.

"We're ready."


End file.
